Master Apprentice Archive Proximity Alarm Quick search:

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Archive: M_A. Others please ask. Also archived at http://www.jediphiles.com/index69.htm

Category: PWP

Pairing: Q/O

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: None

Summary: And you thought sex in a VW Beetle was difficult ...

Disclaimer: George Lucas is da man. He owns everything. We just play.

Warnings: None.

Series: None.

Note: This is in answer to The Emu's first-line challenge.

"Do you have an erection, Qui-Gon?"

Obi-Wan had tried very hard to keep his voice even, but Qui-Gon heard the slight squeak of incredulity, and felt the subtle tensing in the young man's body as Obi-Wan immediately regretted the question. Balled up tightly together as they were in the cramped escape pod designed for a single Sullustan -- not a two-meter-tall Jedi Master and his full-grown apprentice -- they could hardly pretend not to notice such things.

Not when "such things" included the heat and scent of male musk and exertion in his nostrils, a firm, muscular frame wrapped in his arms, the pulse of Obi-Wan's blood against his skin, and the sound of his Padawan's breath, still harsh from their frantic escape, filling the tiny pod that even now rocketed toward what its primitive navigational system computed was the nearest inhabited system.

Especially not when "such things" included a very stiff, very insistent hard-on with a mind of its own that was still twitching eagerly every once in a while, nestled firmly against the crack of his Padawan's luscious backside through two layers of sweaty broadcloth.

Qui-Gon didn't even try to shift away. There was nowhere to go. He'd thought at this juncture of his life he'd grown immune to embarrassment. He was wrong.

"I'm sorry," he said huskily, his own breath rough -- though not from exertion.

He could almost feel Obi-Wan smile. "I had no idea you felt that way about me, Master." Teasing. It was just like his Padawan to try to diffuse the situation with humor. At least the young man wasn't offended, thank the Force.

"Neither had I," he replied honestly, his own smile coloring the words.

They were silent for a time. Qui-Gon took a few deep, measuring breaths, trying to calm his errant flesh while at the same time puzzling over his reactions. It didn't take long to realize what his body already knew: Obi-Wan was a supremely desirable being, one whom he loved as more than a Padawan. The question was, how did Obi-Wan feel about the subject? Qui-Gon couldn't imagine his Padawan ever looking upon him with lust. As far as he knew, Obi-Wan's infrequent dalliances had been with young women.

It would be easy enough to pretend his erection was just an aberration, except that it wasn't going away. If anything, he was growing more aroused, his nerves over-stimulated to the point that focus was growing hard to maintain. He hadn't been this aroused in ... well, perhaps never. He simply wanted, with an almost mindless, animalistic lust. Enough of his mind was left functioning to realize this was probably just some sort of post-battle reaction. The insight didn't help one bit with the ache in his swollen sex.

His breathing was still ragged. He hoped -- fervently, but with the resigned taste of futility -- that Obi-Wan did not notice. Unfortunately his Padawan was well trained in observation, and he had little else to observe in their stifling surroundings.

"Master?" Obi-Wan queried in a choked whisper.

"I'm sorry," Qui-Gon said again. He leaned his head back against the bulkhead behind him and closed his eyes; it was the only thing he could do to give Obi-Wan even an illusion of privacy and space. His hair floated loosely about him, freed by zero-G. Obi-Wan's braid also floated, snake-like, about his face.

Obi-Wan was silent for a long time. His Padawan's shields had grown too effective for any emotion to leak through. Qui-Gon spent his energies fighting against an almost overmastering need to thrust and rub himself against the flesh that enfolded him.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan moved, his hands sliding down Qui-Gon's arms to his hands. The touch of flesh on flesh caused Qui-Gon to gasp involuntarily. "Obi-Wan ..." he warned shakily.

"It's all right, Master," Obi-Wan soothed. He interlaced his fingers with Qui-Gon's and tugged his arms forward, wrapping them more tightly around his body. Qui-Gon could do nothing but rest his cheek against the nape of Obi-Wan's neck and breathe in the smell of soap and sweat, battling mightily against the impulse to kiss the bare skin there.

After a small hesitation, Obi-Wan tugged on his hands again, this time downward. Qui-Gon's palm cupped a hot upswelling of flesh between his Padawan's legs. Just the feel of Obi-Wan's erection in his hand was enough to bring him to the brink of orgasm. He took a gulp of air to try to steady himself, but Obi-Wan had other plans. At the first touch, Obi-Wan groaned loudly and shifted his hips, pressing his backside even more firmly against Qui-Gon's painful arousal. Qui-Gon reacted by biting Obi-Wan none too gently on the exposed join of neck and shoulder. The resultant gasp and moan was almost more than he could bear.

"Is this just ..." Qui-Gon said, taking the time to place another bite near the first mark, "... battle reaction?"

"Aaaahhhh ..." Obi-Wan groaned. "No, I don't think so .... mmmmmm ..." His hips moved restlessly, thrusting into Qui-Gon's palm and then jamming himself back onto Qui-Gon's erection, which was slowly burying itself in the tight heat and wetness between his Padawan's cheeks. He could only imagine how tight and wet and hot it would be if he could have the real thing ...

"Be sure," Qui-Gon warned, his hands fumbling to free Obi-Wan's erection from his trousers.

"Oh, yes ... oh, yes, YES! I am sure, Master. I want you. Ohhhh ...." He turned his head, seeking Qui-Gon's mouth. Their lips brushed, and their tongues met, but they couldn't shift enough to share a true kiss. Qui-Gon settled for licking and nipping at Obi-Wan's mouth, his tongue, his cheek and ear, and the sensitive spot at the join of his jaw. He concentrated on putting a passion mark there, as their bodies shifted and rubbed desperately against each other in the cramped space.

Obi-Wan began to tremble. "Oh, Force, not so fast. Aaaaagh ..." His Padawan reached down and stilled Qui-Gon's hands. Both of them were shaking almost violently now.

"Should we stop?" Qui-Gon asked raggedly, wondering how he would survive it if the answer was Yes.

"I want you inside me," Obi-Wan practically growled.

Qui-Gon's penis leapt at the words and the tone. "Force, Obi-Wan," he groaned. "I don't want to hurt you."

"It's all right," his Padawan said, a note of predatory seduction in his cultured voice that Qui-Gon had never heard before. "I like it rough and ready."

Qui-Gon laughed nervously. "I'm definitely ready, but I'm not sure how we can do this. I find I am rather ... stuck at the moment."

"You are a Jedi Master," Obi-Wan chided breathlessly. "Figure something out."

Qui-Gon smiled. "Let's see what I can do." He concentrated on the fabric of his trousers, imagining the Force gripping the material in two fists and tugging. It was difficult, spreading his attention to two surfaces in that way, but as Obi-Wan had reminded him, he was not a Master for nothing. Soon he heard the telltale shriek of ripping seams.

Obi-Wan shifted his hips forward as much as he could, bent as he was almost in a fetal position. Once again, Qui-Gon set to work on the other set of trousers. The fabric parted, laid itself aside, and Qui-Gon moaned as his heated organ touched Obi-Wan's damp flesh.

"Oh, yes ..." Obi-Wan moaned and wriggled. "Put it in me. Put it in me, Master."

Qui-Gon concentrated even harder, using the Force to part Obi-Wan's cheeks and position the swollen head of his penis against the puckered opening. "Are you sure, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan's answer was a quick thrust backwards that buried the head of Qui-Gon's penis in his body. They both gasped. What small part of Qui-Gon's mind that hadn't been flash-blinded by lust was worried -- surely a bit of pre-come was not enough lubricant to make this even marginally pleasant for his apprentice?

"Oh, *YES*!" Obi-Wan shouted, putting that particular doubt to rest. He shifted back a little more. "Oh ... oh ... more, deeper ... aaaaaahh ... yes, like that ... mmmm ..."

Qui-Gon flexed his hips and shoved himself a few millimeters deeper into the writhing body in his arms. He grunted with effort, using his hands and the Force to part Obi-Wan's legs a bit, allowing him to slide all the way inside that scalding, tight passage. Obi-Wan braced both hands against the bulkhead and undulated, forcing Qui-Gon to withdraw slightly and then shoving him deeper still. After a moment they had braced themselves against the hull and found a rhythm, an awkward, almost ridiculous zero-G dance accompanied by the music of grunts and moans. Qui-Gon couldn't spare a hand to caress Obi-Wan's neglected erection; he couldn't afford to lose any leverage. Instead, he used the Force again, silently amused at how the Council might react if he shared these particular examples in his Fine Force Manipulation seminar. He used the very air to created a sleek, hot channel around his Padawan's penis, surrounding and caressing him to simulate the feeling of being buried in a lover.

"Oh, Master!" Obi-Wan shouted. "I can't ... oh, oh ... I'm going to ... aaaaaaaggggghhhhhh! Oh! Oh! Oh, yes! Qui-Gon. I love you, Master! I love you!" He turned his head, and once again Qui-Gon planted licks and kisses on the mouth that was now slack with satisfaction. Obi-Wan had stopped thrusting against him, but it didn't matter. The continued pulsing of Obi-Wan's channel around him brought him over the edge, and he groaned deeply as he poured himself into his lover.

They stayed like that, panting, the kisses slowly dwindling, until finally Obi-Wan sighed and relaxed completely. "Hmmm," he purred.

"I love you, too," Qui-Gon said in a raw voice. He kissed one of the marks he'd made on Obi-Wan's neck. "Very, very much. Are you all right?"

"Oh ... yeah ..." Obi-Wan drawled. Then he chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"Look, Master." Obi-Wan used his head to gesture. Dozens of white globules of various sizes spun in the air of the cabin. As Qui-Gon watched, two of them met and joined, forming a larger sphere which wobbled briefly before taking up its own rotation. Obi-Wan's semen had formed its own strange little asteroid belt inside their escape pod.

Qui-Gon laughed. "I wonder how we're going to explain the mess when we finally land?" he said helplessly.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Never mind that," Obi-Wan said mischievously. "How are we going to explain this?"  He shifted his hips, reminding Qui-Gon that he remained buried in his Padawan's body.

With that small movement, Qui-Gon's penis began to take a renewed interest. "I don't know," he murmured, and tightened his arms once again around his Padawan. "But I suppose we'd better make the best of a bad situation."

"Oh, yes ..." Obi-Wan said again.